Taking Over Me
by Jade-Max
Summary: Tommy & Kimberly Fic and assumes that their meeting in the “Power Rangers Turbo” movie never happened.  Tommy struggles to get his life back together without closure, only to have Kim's sudden reappearance years later give him the opportunity to move on..
1. Introduction

August 2007

**Disclaimer:** Power Rangers and their affiliates belong to Saban and are used without permission and no money is being made off of this.

**Author's Note:** I've never written a Power Rangers fic, I haven't watched the show in about twelve years, and I have _no_ clue where this bunny came from - I just dreamt it up one day; literally.

**Summary: **Tommy/Kimberly Fic, AU (obviously) and assumed that their meeting in the "Power Rangers Turbo" movie never happened…

* * *

_**Taking Over Me**_

**By JadeMax**

_**Introduction**_

_It's been four years since Kimberly sent Tommy the infamous _"Dear John"_ break up letter. _

_Stunned, heartbroken and disillusioned, Tommy struggles to re-center a life thrown off balance by the sudden void created by Kimberly's absence. He attempts several relationships, including one with the new Pink Power Ranger Kat - all of which ultimately fail. Alone and embittered by her desertion, he's unable to move forward as the letter has left him with no chance for closure. In a desperate move, he attempts to write her a letter of his own, only to have it returned - unopened and unread - considered to be nothing more than Kimberly's fan mail._

_Determined to put her memory behind him, Tommy walks away from the Power Rangers to enter the professional motorcycle racing circuit - a no-brainer with his Zord driving experience. Focused on getting his life on track, he quickly excels at the sport, rising through the ranks in his rookie year to stardom._

_Fame brings with it new challenges and opportunities for the twenty one year old star. It also brings with it excuses - excuses to stay busy, excuses to focus elsewhere - and he succeeds in banishing Kimberly from his waking thoughts. At least for a time._

_Yet, as he heads into his third season on the circuit, a bomb hits. Kimberly's name suddenly appears everywhere in _Angel Grove _as her appointment to the Olympic gymnastic team is made public. Amid the hype is the news that Kimberly is returning to _Angel Grove_ with the Olympic gymnastics team to open the first race of the season._

_Tommy, determined to banish her from his heart and mind to move on, makes plans to have it out with her once and for all and reclaim his life..._


	2. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

Bed sheets rustled in the darkness as Tommy Oliver tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position. His pillow seemed lumpy, more like a pile of bricks than a foam cushion. His mattress springs seemed determined to wreak havoc on his back and his sheets alternatively clung uncomfortably or billowed, washing cool air over his heated skin.

Muttering a dark curse, he threw off the covers and slid his feet over the edge of the bed. The carpet was a welcoming softness his bed seemed to be lacking and he toyed with the idea of stretching out there before rejecting it. It didn't matter where he tried to sleep; it wasn't going to happen.

Not while the news that _she_ was returning to town plagued him like something out of a bad nightmare and he'd _lived_ through nightmares. Nightmares that still occasionally haunted him from his time as a Power Ranger. It had been a happy time in most respects and a time when _she_ had been the bright light in his life. A light she'd snuffed out with a sheet of paper and simple words. Words like 'brother' and 'friend'.

He leaned forward, running his hands into his shoulder length hair and squeezing tightly as his fingers rubbed his scalp. Damn her. Damn her for doing this to him.

After five years the thought of that blasted letter still had the power to sting.

He pushed to his feet and reached for his pants. He wouldn't be able to sleep tonight; he knew it as sure as he knew the Power Rangers still fought evil on a regular basis. He snapped his pants closed and then pulled on his shirt. He needed some exercise, a way to burn the energy thought of _her_ always sent coursing through his veins. Thankfully, he'd kept up with his martial arts - the only compromise he'd been unwilling to make when starting his racing career - and he knew just the place to practice.

Grabbing his keys and helmet off the table, Tommy headed for where he had parked his bike.

* * *

A pre-dawn chill was still hanging in the air as Tommy pulled to a stop just off the pedestrian trail of the meadow he'd practically claimed as his. Jason, the only ex-Ranger he'd kept in touch with, sometimes joined him for early morning exercises but for the most part it was like this morning.

Still.

Silent.

Peaceful.

Something he hadn't been since before _she _had left.

Climbing off his bike, he hung his helmet and jacket on the handle bars before taking a deep breath of the dew scented air. It was enough to calm his nerves but not banish them entirely. He wasn't looking forward to that afternoon when there was no escaping having to see _her _again. In truth, he wasn't sure if he _wanted_ to escape. Seeing her would be both pain and pleasure - a drop of water to a dying man. He stretched, reaching for the sky, and threw himself into a forward flip without pause.

There were no other sounds in the meadow save for the tattooed beat of his feet as they hit the ground and the even inhale and exhale of his breathing.

Punch. Block. Kick.

He ran through a series of basic moves, expending frustrated energy and pent-up anger as he progressed to a more advanced set. Fighting an imaginary opponent, he threw himself into a routine. Seeing in his mind's eye the Putty's that had once threatened them, those minions of evil he's fought on a daily basis until he'd grown too old and jaded - until _she'd_ left. Or rather, until she'd sent that letter. He'd been perfectly fine until that awful letter had reached in and torn his heart out.

The thought intruded as he landed and stopped, inhaling deeply of the early morning's fragrant smells. Damn her. No matter what he did, she was with him. Haunting him like a ghost who had unfinished business. His lips twisted at the thought. It was accurate, only the unfinished business was his, not hers.

He settled into a cool down routine, knowing he'd regret it later if he didn't stretch, and focused on clearing his mind. Or rather, clearing it as much as possible. He needed strength today. The strength to see her and not care, the strength to see her and not want; the strength to walk away as she once had when it was all over.

If he could.

Shaking his head in frustration, he tried to focus on the task ahead. He had a photo shoot this morning, an interview with a local and international paper, practice and - later that afternoon - the race. Only, the race came _after_ the Olympic team's performance and he wasn't sure if he'd be in any shape to get on his bike.

Or rather, if he'd have the focus to avoid getting himself killed.

He spent the next few hours in the meadow, focusing on the only things that still kept him sane. He managed, through strength of will, to banish _her_ back to the back of his mind. Snapping a mental door closed, he finally checked the time.

Enough to get back to his place, shower, change and get to the track for his photo shoot. His lips twisted into a semi-smile. Ah, the life of a star. It left no room for regrets until that fame sputtered and died. For that he was thankful.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

Kimberly Ann Hart flipped gracefully through the air and landed, sticking the landing and arching her back in completion as she threw her hands into the air. She smiled as her team mate clapped.

"Wow, Kim, you're sure psyched about this."

"Shouldn't I be? This is my first public appearance since joining the team." Her eyes sparkled with delight. "_And _it's in my hometown. I'll know practically everyone who comes to see us."

"P_ractically_ everybody?"

Kimberly grinned. "I'm sure there will be people from out of town, but my friends are sure to show. I haven't seen Jason in _ages_."

"And probably haven't talked to him with that drill sergeant of a coach monitoring your calls and mail."

Kimberly shrugged. "I call him; he opened his own Dojo with Zack."

"The Hip-Hop-Kido master?"

The nod Kimberly gave as enthusiastic. "It's really popular with the kids apparently and it's easy to learn. Plus, Zack has the easy going nature to deal with them. I hope they come."

"Why wouldn't they?" Sarah slid into the splits, stretching for her own routine. "If you kept in touch, wouldn't they be eager to see you too?"

"Maybe." Kimberly's smile faded slightly as she sat down and began to stretch with her friend. "I guess I just don't expect them to drop everything for a race."

"And miss seeing the Green Machine in action?" Sarah sounded incredulous. "Are you kidding? He's the hottest thing in Angel Grove - besides you!"

"Green Machine?" Kimberly echoed with raised eyebrows. "Have the Power Rangers been active again?"

"As if!" Sarah giggled, thinking Kimberly meant it as a joke. "Besides, there hasn't been a green ranger in _years_. I'm talking about their racing star - Tom Oliver."

Kimberly stilled, her eyes widening in shock. "_Tommy_ is the Green Machine?"

"Tommy?" Sarah arched her eyebrows in surprised delight. "Do you know him?"

There was a slight pause. "Years ago. We didn't keep in touch."

And she wasn't about to tell Sarah how much it hurt that Tommy hadn't. She could have used his support when things had gotten rough and the relationship she'd been in had fallen through. She'd missed his constant support, his way of being able to cheer her up no matter the circumstance.

She missed how they'd been friends, the best of friends, as well as a fledgling something more. A something she'd thrown away foolishly and cost herself a relationship that had meant more to her than any other. She missed hearing him laugh and seeing him smile. She missed his pep talks - the way he always knew what to say to brighten her day. How he'd go out of his way to make her smile.

She just missed _him_.

"Well, you _knew_ him, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

Sarah grinned. "Could you introduce me? I mean, all that long hair and those eyes," she sighed contentedly. "The man is easy to look at; I'd _love_ to get his autograph; or maybe take him for a drink."

An empty feeling stole into Kimberly's stomach as she thought about her friend chatting with Tommy; a feeling she knew she had no right to feel. _She'd _broken up with _him_ - a fact she'd regretted ever since - but she'd done it in the worst way possible. By letter. She'd taken the coward's way out. She should have done it in person; or over the phone if her coach wouldn't have given her the time off. But she'd been a coward - she, the former Pink Ranger - had deliberately hurt the best friend she'd ever had. She'd known he'd be hurt and she hadn't wanted to see his face - she couldn't bear the thought of the look in his eyes.

Not that it mattered now; Tommy had moved on with his life.

She managed to find a smile for Sarah. "If he'll talk to me, I'd be happy to."

The look Sarah gave her was inquisitive - intensely so. "What do you mean _if_ he'll talk to you? Why wouldn't he?"

"I... we used to date in high school. It ended... er badly."

Sarah's eyes went as wide as saucers. "You _dated_ the Green Machine? Kim, were you crazy or just out of your _mind_ when you let him slip through your fingers?"

"A little of both?" She shrugged, looking away as she stretched her chest to the floor, reaching out in front of her.

"Was it a public fling or one of those secret things?"

"Public." Kimberly hoped her face to the mattress hid her blush. She'd never forgiven herself for hurting him. "At least, it wasn't a secret."

"So, does that mean you'll be thrown together for photos?"

Her heart dropped, thudding painfully in her chest. Photos meant proximity and proximity meant having to face him again. See him. Smile at him. _Talk_ to him. She cringed inside at the thought even as a part of her jumped at the unexpected possibility. Talk with Tommy? After all this time? It would likely be awkward and uncomfortable after such a long time. But, if she was going to introduce Sarah, she'd have to... she ended the thought there.

What could he possibly say while they were in public? What could she? If they happened to be thrown together for photographs and interviews before the race - or after - they'd all be in a heavily peopled area. They wouldn't be alone with a chance of having old sparks ignite or hurts aired.

A harmless photo shoot - if the press requested it of course. It wasn't like it was a given. She probably wouldn't even see him except for riding his motorcycle as it sped around the track. Even that thought made her heart race. Just to see him again, to know he was alright; to know he'd made something of himself was a dream she hadn't dared wish for.

"Kim?"

Sarah's concerned voice brought her head up. "Yeah?"

"You okay? You're getting awfully comfortable with that floor."

"Just thinking."

"About Tom?"

She wasn't about to admit it. "About a lot of things. I wasn't really expecting Tommy to still be in Angel Grove."

"You expected him to do something other than racing?" Sarah looked puzzled. "You said you knew him; surely you saw that he was a natural on a bike."

Kimberly shrugged. "I didn't think about it much. Back in high school he was into martial arts more than anything else. I mean, sure, he hung out with the rest of us sometimes, but he was mostly a loner. Tommy was a very private person."

"He still is according to the news reports." Sarah rolled gracefully to her feet. "Spot me, will you?"

Kimberly nodded as her friend left her mercifully alone. Her thoughts turned to the last time she'd seen Tommy. They'd been in Angel Grove and he'd promised to keep in touch with her, seen her off with a kiss and a hug before she'd left for Florida.

He'd sent her letters initially - at least until she'd sent the one that ended their relationship - but only Jason sent her pictures. And Jason had sent her a picture of the gang with the new Pink Ranger hanging off Tommy like a wet jacket. A position Kim herself had never really spoken for, but showed that Tommy and the Kat had been involved.

She should never have given her powers to the interloper.

She shook off the thought. Kat hadn't done anything wrong; she'd simply stepped into the void Kimberly had left - a void that included the position as Tommy's girlfriend. Had Kat been waiting for the opportunity? Had she been the one Tommy had turned to after cutting off communications with her?

The knowledge that she _should_ be grateful for Kat's relationship with Tommy didn't stop the jealousy that snagged her gut. A jealousy that had grown and what had kept her away from Angel Grove these last years. She couldn't stand the thought of seeing Tommy with someone else - it was a reminder of everything she'd thrown away on a bad judgment call.

Shaking off the lethargy thoughts of the past always seemed to instill, she deliberately turned her thoughts back to the task at hand and being Sarah's spotter. If Tommy Oliver was going to end up back in her life, even only briefly, she'd deal with it when the time came.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Tommy pulled his helmet off and shook his head to ensure his hair fell straight. He passed through security, registering his personal machine with the license plate number, and headed for his trailer. His crew would already be around working on his bike and making sure it was ready for the race this afternoon.

But he didn't want to see them yet.

A note waited for him on his trailer door. A simple piece of paper folded in half with his name on the back - _Tom Oliver_. At least it wasn't addressed to Tommy. He flipped it open and scanned the message before crumpling it in his fist.

The photo shoot had been moved. Not location, just time. Instead they were doing their interviews first thing this morning and were asking for another after the race. He could guess why. With _her_ back in town, certain things were coming back to the forefront and it wasn't the first time he'd be deflecting questions on their relationship.

Or rather, lack there of.

It was his fault that he hadn't kept in touch after her last letter, but he didn't suppose she had the right to wonder why. He'd assumed she would have understood - after all, she'd known her letter was going to hurt. She'd even included in it the fact that she'd known and hadn't intended it that way. Yet, she'd written the damn thing anyway instead of talking to him.

Stepping into the trailer he chucked the paper into the recycling bin in the corner before opening the fridge and grabbing a bottled water. He wanted a drink - preferably a beer - but it was race day. Downing half the water bottle in several long swallows he put it on the table and settled into the chair next to it.

Now he had time to kill.

The first interview, according to the note, wasn't scheduled for another couple hours and there was no way he was simply going to wait for it to pass inside his trailer. The track was out - they were preparing it for the race and they'd had their qualifying runs the day before - so he needed another outlet.

He regained his feet, swiped his water from the table and departed his trailer heading for the infield of the track where the stage was being prepped for the gymnasts. There was a better chance of encountering her here, but he needed to do something to keep his mind off the fact that in less than twelve hours he would be facing _her_ - the only woman who'd ever wormed her way under his skin and refused to let go.

It was an anticipatory pain and pleasure, one he didn't know how to describe and wasn't even going to try.

* * *

A little over an hour later, Tommy was helping hold down one section of the stage for reinforcing when someone cleared their throat behind him. He wiped the sweat from his brown with one arm, craning his head to the side.

The young woman who was waiting for him was a red head - not _her_ - and wearing an open smile. "Tom Oliver?"

He smiled, nodding her towards a nearby folding chair. "Have a seat, Miss Carter. I guess time got away from me."

"Call me Cass." She settled herself in, watching as he held the planks down as they were being lashed in place on the other end. Her gaze took in the muscle shirt - or more particularly the muscles underneath his shirt - with an approving eye. "Are they short of help, Mr. Oliver?"

"Tom, Cass. And no, I volunteered. I like to stay busy on race day, it helps me focus."

"Through physical labor?" She cocked her head with a return smile. "That seems like an odd thing for a racer to do."

"I was a martial artist by trade before I became a racer." He was relieved of his post by another of the workers, now freed up to help, and Tommy turned to the journalist. "I still am a martial artists but racing's become my passion over the last few years."

"Or so the stats show," Cass' gaze was knowing. "Any plans on going beyond the motorcycle series?"

"Not at the moment," his smile was easy as he settled on a nearby stack of wooden planks, wiping his hands on a rag he'd hooked into his belt for that purpose. "I've toyed with the idea of moving to sprint cars or something, but it's just not where I want to go."

"And where would that be?"

He gestured around him. "You see it, Cass. This, Angel Grove, is my home. I may not have been born here, but my family and friends are here. Motorcycle racing is a dangerous sport and if something were to happen, I'd rather be here than out in some strange city."

"Even when you're on tour for most of the year and an accident could happen at any track?"

"It's about having a home ground advantage. See, everyone - even us national icons - have to have a place where we feel we're simply another one of the folks in the neighborhood. Here, in Angel Grove, I have that. While I could be injured anywhere, I always know that no matter what _this_ is where I belong. This is where I'm supposed to be when it comes down to the wire."

Cass regarded him thoughtfully. She didn't appear to be taking notes, so Tommy suspected she'd come wired - or had some kind of tape recorder. It didn't surprise him; he'd done hundreds of interviews. "So, Tom, is Kimberly Hart still counted among your friends?"

He'd known the question had been coming, and he'd braced himself for it. It still didn't stop the twitch of his hands in the rag. He didn't dare let on that _her _reappearance was anything out of the ordinary to him or the reporter would smell blood and go for the kill. He managed a crooked smile. "She's a very talented young woman who chose to focus on her career. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices when you pursue your goals."

"And you were one of those sacrifices?"

He shrugged. "You'd have to ask her that. We lost touch after she moved away. I'm happy for her though - this was her dream in high school. She's accomplished that goal and made it to the level she aspired; life doesn't get much better than that."

Cass nodded, seeming to follow his line of thought. "The Olympics are certainly a goal few can achieve. Did you ever aspire to something other than racing, Tom?"

His grin was instantaneous. "I wanted to open my own Dojo. I was even invited to by Jason and Zack - a couple of my friends - but the timing wasn't right."

"Is it a possibility for the future?"

"Cass, anything is possible." He winked at her, drawing a smile. "I learned that in high school. If you want something bad enough and are willing to push yourself, you can achieve anything - with a little help from your friends."

"Well, your friends certainly didn't have much to do with your racing career."

"More than anyone will know." He pushed to his feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me Cass, I need to shower and change before they start the pre-race this morning."

"One last question, Tom."

He paused, waiting as she stood.

"I have it from a reliable source that you encouraged Kimberly Hart to pursue her dreams and move away from Angel Grove. Do you regret that?"

Tommy stared at her, the question echoing through his mind. Did he regret it? The heartache that followed, yes. Her breakup with him, yes; but pushing her to pursue her dream? For supporting her in the one thing he knew she'd regret _not_ having done if she'd stayed?

"No, Cass. I don't regret that. She was my friend and she had a dream. How can you regret an action that brings someone else the very thing they've always wanted?"

She didn't reply and he didn't continue, considering the interview to be over as he turned on his heel and walked away.

All the way back to his trailer he considered what the interview had revealed. Had he been a sacrifice that Kimberly had made for her career? The thought entered his mind that maybe Kim had lied to him and hurt him, setting them both free in the process, because she'd known he would wait for her. She'd known she wouldn't be returning and, to be fair, had set him free.

And he was still waiting - but she didn't know that.

A part of him would always wait for her. She was his princess, his beautiful warrior and while she'd been deliberately cruel in their parting, he wondered now if there hadn't been more to it. The sting was still there, but the pain of that separation had dulled into an ache that occasionally flared up.

With the new perspective - one he would have been able to achieve even a year before - he considered that perhaps there was more to the story of Kimberly's letter than he'd previously know. She'd been gone for less than a year - they'd been together for two before that - when she'd finally sent that letter. Now, with the questions from the reporter echoing through his mind, he wondered if she hadn't written it set _him_ free; not her.

Unless he could talk to her, he supposed he'd never know.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Kimberly stretched her arms behind her head, reaching for the ceiling of the tent. The sound of the people arriving for the pre-race was audible through the fabric as the breeze teased the base from the ground. Focused, she closed her eyes and inhaled the familiar scents wafting through the enclosure. The scents of the grounds, the cars, the people, and the food, but beyond that... the trickle of lakes and trees and the familiar smells of her home turf. She smiled, feeling her muscles relax as the strength of knowing she was home flooded through her.

"Miss Hart?"

She bent at the waist, reaching for the ground, so completely focused she missed the calling of her name. Sarah's hand on her shoulder as she straightened brought her head up in surprise, "What?"

Sarah grinned, nodding towards the entrance. "There's a reporter here to see you."

Kimberly turned towards the entrance of the tent, finding the red-headed reporter waiting and lifted her hand to indicate she'd seen her. The reported nodded, ducking out of the tent to await her outside.

Sarah arched her eyebrows at her friend. "Something I should know about?"

"She's from the local paper. Didn't Coach tell you they're running an article on all of us?"

"And your interview?"

"I'm the local girl," Kimberly grinned. "I get special treatment." She grabbed her track jacket from the back of a nearby chair. "I'll be back in a few; remember we've been asked to attend the photo shoot at eleven."

"Then you'd better keep your interview short - it's in less than thirty minutes."

Kimberly's grin was impish. "Considering everything about me is already known to this town, it should be short and sweet. I won't be late."

* * *

The journalist was waiting with a welcoming smile when Kimberly stepped from the tent and into the morning sunlight. It was a beautiful day for a race. There were few clouds in the sky and only a slight breeze that sent ripples of cool air through what was already turning out to be a warm day.

Kimberly crossed to the reporter on light feet and joined her at the rail surrounding the track. The track was, as of yet, empty, but sounds could be heard from the pits where crews worked on the motorcycles, fine tuning them for the race ahead.

"Kimberly Ann Hart," the reporter smiled, extending her hand. "I'm delighted you've agreed to speak with me. Cass Carter, Angel Grove Report."

They shook hands and turned back to the track as the stands began to fill at a steady pace. "I admit to being curious about getting the request." Kimberly slanted a look at the reporter. "I know I'm a local girl who made it big, but surely there are more prominent stars in this town."

"Like the Green Machine?"

Kimberly managed to keep her smile and nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I knew about it before I came home - I didn't know Tommy had gone into racing."

"Tommy?" Cass turned to face her, dropping all pretense of studying the stands. "I have it from a solid source the two of you were close before you left to follow your gymnastic dream."

"You could say that." Kimberly turned to look at the reporter, suddenly wary. "I hope this isn't an interview about my past with Tommy."

"Oh no, but I'm sure those who knew about your friendship would be interested in hearing what you think about his success now that you've been made aware."

Kimberly blushed. The reporter had made it sound like she'd been deliberately self-absorbed and uninformed on her home town. "I'm proud of him. Tommy didn't really have any idea of what he wanted to do in high school - beyond martial arts. That he's decided to go this route is a bit of a surprise, but I'm glad he found something for himself."

"Does it surprise you he chose to go a similar route as you - to step into an iconic role as a role model for youngsters all over the country, not just here in Angel Grove?"

"Tommy's always been a leader." The words slipped out before she could stop them. "I mean, he's always had a very strong sense of what he can and can't do. That he's chosen a role kids can look up to him in isn't much of a surprise. He was doing that even back in high school - it's just part of who he is."

"You sound as if you admire him. Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

Kimberly shrugged, turning to look back across the track, well aware she was being analyzed by the reporter's hawk-like gaze. "I admire all of my friends. They each have their own strengths and weaknesses. Tommy's doing something with his life that uses both. He doesn't _like_ the spotlight, but if he can help other people, he's willing to tolerate it." She shrugged, slightly uncomfortable. "I guess I should say he never _used_ to like the spotlight - it looks like that's changed."

"You do know he goes by Tom now, and not Tommy?"

Kimberly's grin was unimpeded. "He'll always be Tommy to me."

Cass chuckled. "Well, we'll see if he agrees with it since I'm sure you'll both be doing interviews after he win's the race."

"After he wins?" Kimberly arched her eyebrows. "Isn't that premature?"

"Not really. He wins almost every race - it's one of the reasons they're pushing him to go pro."

"Oh." Kimberly felt like an idiot for not knowing it before hand, but then, she hadn't kept up with him or his career when he'd deliberately cut their contact five years previous.

Cass seemed to understand what she was feeling and moved on. "So, are you nervous about today's performance?"

"Not really. There are few people in this city that haven't seen me before; it's like opening up your favorite pail of ice cream and knowing the flavor will be as tasty as the first time you tried it."

"Interesting analogy." Cass smiled. "Is that how you see performing your art in front of most people or just here in Angel Grove?"

Kimberly felt her shoulders relax as the reporter moved onto more comfortable topics. "I don't think it really matters how many people watch me. Here, I know most of them so I know they're rooting for me to do my best. It doesn't really matter if I know the audience or not - everywhere I go there's a certain energy that feeds my performance." She grinned, returning the journalist's smile. "I tend to look at it as me versus the mat or bars, or beam. If people want to see me do well, it helps, but it's not essential."

"So you're telling me that the sport is all about testing your personal limits and not the competition between you and the other athletes."

"Not so much. There are a few people in my own crew who do the same competitive events but we're all team mates. The idea is to be supportive of each other because each of us is pushing ourselves to a higher level. It's really us against ourselves, not each other."

"And when you do shows like this?"

"We're a team; it only makes sense we pull together for a big show. Besides, we wouldn't be much of a team if we _didn't_ support each other; that's what it's all about."

"Are you confident your team mates all feel the same way?"

"Of course!"

"You're sure?" Cass cocked her head at the gymnast. "Usually there are a few rivalries on professional teams - ones that include wanting to see others fail."

"I'm sure there are, but not on my end."

"Does that mean you won't be disappointed if you don't win a medal?"

Kimberly shrugged. "If someone else deserves it more than I do, I'd feel wrong if I won. But," her smile was wry, "if I did deserve it and someone else won, I'd be pretty upset."

"Spoken like a true athlete."

"Thanks."

"Just one last question before I let you get back to your stretches."

"Sure."

Cass' eyes sparkled knowingly. "Will Tom Oliver's presence here today affect your routine in any way?"

Kimberly straightened, and met the reporter's gaze head on as she quashed the swimming of her stomach. It would matter and it would push her to show him he hadn't shown faith in her without reason - but the reporter didn't need to know that. "I'm a professional, Miss Carter. It's what I do."

Cass seemed inclined to ask one more question, but Kimberly turned on her heel and strode towards the tent without a backwards glance. Once inside, she settled onto the nearest chair - ignoring Sarah's concerned look - and cradled her head in her hands.

Today was going to be even tougher than she'd originally thought.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The sound of the crowd was almost overwhelming when Tommy stepped onto the stage for driver introductions. He smiled, waving to the crowd with both arms, and couldn't help but marvel at their response. They waved green and silver banners - his colors - with his name on them. They screamed for him, a few of the women waving cardboard signs declaring their undying devotion. They charged the air with an excitement and electricity that reenergized his spirit the way nothing else could.

This was what he lived for now. The thrill, the danger; this reward.

The announcer broke into the cheering with the words Tommy had been fearing.

"And folks, for a second special treat, please welcome home Kimberly Ann Hart and congratulate her on her appointment to the Olympics' gymnastics' team!"

The crowd went wild as Kimberly stepped onto the stage from the opposite side from Tommy. She was dressed in pink and blue, her hair tied back in a French braid, and still looked like the teenager she'd been; though there we a few curves that hadn't been as pronounced in high school.

It made him feel sixteen again as she did a no-handed cartwheel from the side stage and then waved to the adoring crowd. They cheered for more and she obliged, doing an easy cartwheel which she ended with the splits, continuing to wave since anything she might have tried to say would have been drowned out.

She didn't look at him; he knew because he couldn't tear his gaze off her as she played to the crowd.

His publicist, a woman in her mid-forties, nudged him, indicating he was to go join her, and he did so reluctantly. The smile on her face wavered for a moment before reappearing, and he knew that she knew he was close. Her hand extended without looking at him, and he caught it.

The strength in her fingers was the Kimberly he remembered as they latched around his wrist. Her touch brought a flood of memories - bittersweet memories - he wanted to suddenly relive. Her fingers spasmed around his wrist, indicating he was to do something, the smile plastered on her face never wavering. But it was a smile that was as fake as the faces around them; she was nervous. It was little comfort that he could still read her like a book.

Reporters crowded around and flashes went off as they snapped photographs. Questions, lost in the sound of the cheering crowd, were shouted as Tommy drew Kimberly to her feet with an effortless looking pull. She came gracefully; he knew, because he didn't have a moment to spare to look anywhere but at her. She regained her feet at his side, her gaze focused on the cameras and never once straying to meet his.

Tearing his gaze away, Tommy smiled for the cameras. Knowing what was expected in photo shoots like these, he reached out and pulled Kimberly flush to his side. His arm curved about her shoulders even as his hand slid possessively - a right he no longer had - down from shoulder to upper arm.

Kimberly didn't resist. She stepped closer, her own arm sliding around his waist; it was a torture he hadn't prepared for and one that nearly wiped the smile from his lips. Somehow he held on to it, lifting his free hand to wave to the crowd as she did the same. Her body was tense against his as they stood for several moments for photos.

The crowd loved it, cheering and chanting as they clapped their enthusiastic approval of their hometown heroes. Heroes they could all relate with and ones their parents could hold up for emulation. It was all well and good to emulate the Power Rangers, but children needed heroes they could see accomplishing real life goals; not just saving the world.

Not that any of the crowd - minus one or two - knew their heroes on stage had been Rangers.

Tommy steered her away once the flashing of the cameras began to die, towards the side of the stage. Keeping an arm around her shoulders - as of yet unwilling to end the pleasurable pain of having her close once more - he didn't let go until they were completely out of sight in the small prep room.

Dropping his arm as if he'd been burned, he didn't look at her and started to walk away.

"Tommy."

He told himself not to stop, but hearing her voice after all this time - just as he remembered it - was like the pull of a leash. He stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move forward, but unable to bring himself to turn around. If he did he didn't know what he would say or do, but whatever it was, he'd likely make a fool of himself over her again. He didn't speak, couldn't bring himself to answer her in kind.

"Can I talk to you?"

His head jerked in a semblance of a nod even as his heart jack hammered in his chest at her words. Talk. Right.

"Won't you look at me?"

He closed his eye for a moment. Her voice was pain-laced, hurt, has if the unconscious self-defense mechanism on his part was a personal insult. Or meant to inflict pain.

"I can't." His voice was rough. Just being near her again was enough to remind him of everything he'd lost. Of every dream she'd shattered with a single letter - of the pain he'd gone through to reach the point he was now at. He didn't like the thought of hurting her deliberately and - even after she'd done it to him - couldn't bring himself to hurt her now. He ached, the knot in his throat choking off whatever he might have replied as he considered his options.

He couldn't walk away, he couldn't turn to face her, and he couldn't bring himself to speak. He could only wait to see what she had to say.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Kimberly drank in the sight of Tommy's broad shoulders like a woman who'd been too long without water. He was taller than he'd been at seventeen, and his still impressive physique had been honed by years of continued martial arts. She hadn't realized how much she'd _wanted_ to see him until she'd stepped out on the stage across from him. She'd forced herself not to look, afraid of what would be read in her face.

It wasn't the sight of him, however, that had caused her pulse to race; it was the simple touch of his hand, that firm, reassuring grip she'd missed, as it pulled her to her feet.

Her heart aching from the strain she could see in his posture. She'd done this, she realized. Her, by her past actions, had lost the easy friendship they'd once shared. The easy camaraderie. Even now she could feel a glimmer of it, but it was buried under years of unknowns. Years of heartache and pain.

He didn't continue and she realized he was waiting for her to say something more. She licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. There was so much she wanted to say, so many apologies to make, but she couldn't. Her mouth wouldn't cooperate.

She took a step towards him, saw his shoulders tense, but didn't stop there. She'd felt his arm around her, the reassuring presence she'd always loved about him. The way he made her feel safe, protected, but not smothered. He'd done everything he could to support her and she'd turned on him like he was trash at the first opportunity.

Tears flooded her eyes; she didn't deserve him. She wrapped her arms around her own waist in a protective gesture. Her voice broke when she was finally able to get the words past dry lips. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I never should have hurt you. So, so sorry."

He turned finally, as if the sound of her words had flicked a switch, and she was suddenly in his arms, cradled against his chest. "Don't cry, Kim. Please don't cry."

She clung to him, relishing the feel of it, drawing strength from his grip. She sobbed against him, burying her face in his shoulder even as she fought the guilty knowledge that it should be _she_ comforting _him_. Then, he surprised her a second time by lifting her in his arms and onto his lap as he sat in one of the chairs. His lips grazed her temple, an action as familiar as it was foreign - comforting her though he said no words.

But he did speak, and it took her a moment to realize that the words weren't the harsh, accusations she'd been expecting.

* * *

Tommy cradled Kimberly against him, rocking her gently. Her sobs were familiar to him - he'd cried enough in her absence - that he couldn't be mad at her. She was telling him without words everything she regretted. That she never should have hurt him and never should have left. That she'd made her share of mistakes and leaving him had been one.

Wishful thinking might have played a part in his observations, but he didn't think so. Kimberly clung to him like a woman who was drowning. He spoke without thinking, keeping his tone soothing. Even after all she'd done to him, he couldn't stand to see her hurting.

"It's alright, Kim." He gently stroked her back, letting his lips graze her temple in a lingering caress. "Everything's okay, I promise. Please don't cry; I can't stand to see you hurt."

She was unable to stop, his kindness - one she clearly didn't feel she deserved - simply fueling the flames of her guilt and pain.

His hand was gentle as he lifted his palm from her back and ran it carefully over her head, the silken feel of her hair drawing a shudder from deep within. He was touching her, feeling her and it took some convincing that this wasn't some kind of dream.

"I never thought I'd ever get to hold you again, Kim," the words slipped out on a harsh whisper before he realized what he was saying. "I only hoped it wouldn't be like this. You're killing me, beautiful. I hurt because you do."

"B-beautiful?" She almost choked on the word, lifting her gaze to his hesitantly. "I never thought you'd ever call me that again after what I did to you, Tommy."

He gently wiped her tears away, feeling his own eyes brimming. "You've never stopped being beautiful to me, Kim, and you never will."

"How can you say that?" She pulled away, pushing to her feet as she dashed additional tears from her eyes. "I hurt you; don't deny it, I know I did. How can you even think I'm beautiful after the ugly things I did?"

"You sent me a letter."

"It's called a _Dear John_ letter, Tommy. It's a breakup letter, the coward's way out." The words were full of guilt and self-loathing even as she wrapped her arms once more about her own waist. It was a protective gesture he hadn't seen her use around him before. "And I took it; I wrote it, I sent it, and you're telling me it's no big deal?" She shook her head. "You dropped off the face of the earth after that - you weren't there when I needed you."

"When you needed me." He settled back in the chair, refusing to get into an argument. He felt drained, exhausted by the mental build up to this moment that had left him nothing more than the desire to get it over with and move on. "Whatever happened to mister wonderful, kind and caring?"

She paled as her voice dropping to a whisper. "He left me when I chose gymnastics instead of moving away with him."

"I'm sorry Kim." And he was. At least if she'd stayed with the guy he could have felt good for her. As it was, the knowledge that he'd been tossed aside for someone who'd only gone on to do the same thing to her was bittersweet. "Did he send you a letter?"

She flinched, taking the blow with a quick shake of her head.

Bitterness was a sour taste in his mouth. "Good. It's a lousy way to get dumped."

"Tommy, I-"

"Don't, Kim." He held up his hand, stopping her and cutting off whatever she'd been about to say. "You have to know I wasn't there for you because I didn't want to be. I had my own life to put back together."

"Did you?" The words were full of yearning, the desire to know he'd recovered from the blow despite the harshness she was being subjected to.

"Mostly." His smile was faint and lacking warmth. "I resented you a long time for denying me the chance at closure."

"And now?"

He finally gained his feet, looking down at her, certain she could read every emotion he'd felt since her desertion on his face. "I never stopped looking."

* * *

Kimberly felt awful.

She'd spent four years resenting the fact that Tommy had moved beyond her, as she'd tried to do with him and failed only to find out she'd been wrong. Horribly wrong. Sure, she'd accomplished her goal, but at what cost? The man before her was everything she'd ever wanted. Both friend and lover, confidant and playmate - happiness had simply happened with him, not had to be worked for. It hadn't been a chore but a daily miracle.

And she'd turned her back on him only to be hurt when he seemed to do the same for her. Looking for closure - was it possible there was something to salvage? Something she could retain after all the years apart? She searched his gaze and her lips split into a tentative smile. "Did you really search for closure?"

He nodded, watching her warily. "It was kind of hard to get without you."

"And now?" She had to repeat the question - he hadn't really answered it the first time. "Do you still resent me?"

His hand lifted to brush the backs of his fingers over the smoothness of her cheek. "Only from afar; When you're this close, I feel like we could just... pick up where we left off."

She grabbed his hand, holding it tightly, like a life-line. "Could we, Tommy? Could we really just start from where we were and forget the last five years ever happened?"

He stared at her, his eyes blank, and she thought for a minute she'd overstepped her boundaries. They weren't even friends; they were simply exes who should never have been exes. His eyes cleared, but she didn't see what she _wanted_ to see.

"I can never forget, Kim, but if you explain, I might be able to forgive."

An explanation. He deserved one and she nodded, letting his hand go reluctantly. "Alright. But it will have to wait until after the race."

"After the show." His correction was accompanied with a half-smile. "I don't have to race today."

"Yes you do." She countered with a knowing look and unconsciously slipping into old habits. "There are hundreds of fans who look up to you out there in the stands who'd be disappointed if you didn't race. Think of Fred; don't you think he'd want to see you race today?"

"After the race," his concession was reluctant.

Kimberly could see that the fact she'd agreed to talk to him, to explain what had happened four years ago, and to give him the closure he'd searched for was a weight off his shoulders. He was obvious loathe to put it off for even five minutes, let along five hours, but she knew that he knew she was right. It gave her hope that not only could they close that chapter in their lives, but possibly open a new one.

She checked her appearance in the mirror provided in the small room. Her eyes were slightly red and puffy and her face was flushed from her crying bout. It couldn't be helped now.

"Kim?"

She turned to face him again, her heart skipping a beat as his smile - the one she'd missed so much - appeared.

"My place; don't be late."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The rest of the day seemed to drag - except the opening show. Tommy rarely got to see them, but he made a point of being on the very front edge of the VIP row beside the stage, his helmet under his arm, as the music started.

Kimberly and her crew of five other gymnasts took the stage. They tumbled about like drunken sailors - but with far more grace. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she sprang, cart wheeled, dove and rolled across the stage. Her smile, something she rarely held onto while performing due to her concentration, was solidly in place. She caught his eye several times and it seemed to energize her to know he was in the crowd.

As it did him when he finally pulled his helmet on and the race was started. Kimberly's presence was a high, one he'd never expected to get. Something inside warned him to be cautious, to take things slow and to work through their past before trying to be anything, even friends, in the future.

He didn't want to listen. He wanted what they'd had, craved it, yearned for it - dreamed of it. Despite everything, he still wanted her back.

The gun sounded and his bike sprang forward, shooting out from his position in the front of the pack. The other bikes took the first turn with him, headed for the official starting point, and then, as they hit the white line, Tommy's green and silver machine roared to life as he opened the throttle.

He imagined he could hear Kimberly's voice cheering him on amidst the racket surrounding the track - even over the beating of his heart as it pounded in his head. She urged him on, and he unconsciously crouched lower over the bars as he brought the bike around the track at speed.

Wind ripped at his green and silver racing suit as he sped through several more laps, slowly but surely increasing his lead on those behind him.

Suddenly, an image of Kimberly flashed through his mind and he knew what he had to do to win her back. His concentration was shot by the sudden image of the two of them together as a team again, and his bike lost its grip in a dangerous corner. He let it go, knowing instinctively that it would have been no good, and fell with the machine.

Pain ripped through his torso as he hit the ground and rolled, sliding across the pavement and into the grass. Heat flared, roaring to life as the gasoline tank on his bike suddenly burst into flames as it impacted the barrier. The world seemed to slow as he neared the fire ball, powerless to stop his slide. Something told him he was hurt - badly - the pain ripping through his body more of a pressing concern than the fire.

He could swear, just seconds before he impacted in the safer safety barrier and disappeared into the inferno, that he heard Kimberly scream his name.

* * *

"_TOMMY!!_"

Kimberly's scream echoed across a track suddenly silent and in shock. She felt hands on her arm, holding her back as she strained to see, unable to get a clear view as the sirens of the emergency vehicles sounded. They seemed to be moving in slow motion as they headed for the scene of the accident.

_No, no!_ This couldn't be happening, not now, not when she'd finally found him again and they were talking. She pushed the hands away and, not even thinking about the action, scaled the safety fence and flipped over the top, dropping down into an all out run on the other side.

Someone screamed at her but she paid it no attention.

Tommy. She had to get to Tommy. She had to pull him out of there. She didn't feel the stinging in her hands from the lacerations of the barbed wire on the fence, didn't feel the shooting pain of her twisted ankle. All she could see were the flames consuming the listless form it engulfed.

_Tommy._

Her heart leapt into her throat, fear like nothing she'd ever felt consuming her and driving her forward.

She reached the crash site first, pushed back by the roaring flames. "_Tommy_!" She called for him, searching for some sign of life.

He rolled suddenly, one arm flopping out of the flames and she grabbed the glove without thinking. Pulling, calling on every muscle she'd honed from years of gymnastics, she dragged him free of the fire. Hands suddenly grasped her shoulders, as if to pull her away and she flailed, kicking out with both feet as she hit the ground.

She struggled to stay close to Tommy, reaching to touch him, unaware of the blisters on her palms.

"Kimberly!"

The sound of her voice was accompanied by a wheezing sound of someone losing their breath. She blinked, as if waking from a nightmare, to find herself being spoken to by a man who appeared to be several years her senior - with her hand in his gut.

She dropped it, looking around horrified, and finally seeing what she needed to. The Emergency crews were on site, the ambulance techs loading Tommy's still unconscious form onto a stretcher. "Tommy!"

"Let them do their job, Miss Hart," the man told her, wheezing. "You've done what you can."

She watched, uncaring who saw the tears on her cheeks, as Tommy was loaded into the ambulance. She whirled on the man - whom she now saw were wearing Tommy's team colors. "Where are they taking him?"

"After a crash like that they'll take him to the hospital." The man looked around as the crews began dousing the flames. "I'm Wally - his crew chief. Come with me."

"But-"

Wally's look was uncompromising and Kimberly did as she was told, following the man to the side of the track and behind the pits. She didn't hear her coach calling for her to stop, nor see Sarah's knowing smile. She was too focused on following Wally and getting to Tommy. He'd need her there when he woke and she wasn't going to let anything stop her.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was the familiar beeping of the hospital monitors that finally woke him. The smell he inhaled was as familiar as a friend and belonged to one that had saved him several times, but one that he was loathe to see. Antiseptic. He groaned softly, feeling the headache begin before he'd had a chance to do little more than crack his eyes open.

"Tommy?"

His eyes opened in surprise. "Kim?"

"Oh, Tommy!" She darted into the room, throwing her arms around him where he lay in the hospital bed. Her palms were swathed in gauze from wrist to the base of her fingers - something he didn't understand. "I was so afraid! I saw you hit that wall and I thought... I..."

He chuckled, wincing as the reason for his hospitalization came clear. Broken ribs. "I'm alright. The doctor wouldn't have let anyone but family see me if I wasn't."

Heat bloomed on her cheeks as she cast a guilty look towards the nurse. Tommy realized he'd said something wrong the moment before the nurse strode forward with a frown on her face. "I thought you said you _were_ family, miss."

Kimberly's blush deepened as she cast a beseeching look back towards him. Her brown eyes begged for help as she mouthed a word at him. Fido? Finals... fiancée? He arched his eyebrows at her in surprise. She shrugged, as if to say it was the only way to get what she wanted - the only way to be close to him.

"It's alright nurse, Kim won't tax me."

"Miss Hart shouldn't be in here, Mister Oliver." The nurse's tone was stern and disapproving. "You've had a serious accident and need your rest. Adoring fans-"

"Fiancée, nurse," Tommy corrected quickly, not daring to look at Kimberly as he willingly compounded her lie. "But it's hush hush, so don't go calling the tabloids or anything, okay?"

The nurse's expression cleared. "Well, that's different. Still, don't stay long, Miss Hart. He needs to recover."

Kimberly settled onto a chair at the edge of the bed as the nurse left the room and gave them some privacy. "This looks familiar; only I think positions were reversed last time."

"Is this where you tell me I need to land on my feet?"

"Nope. You just need to learn how to drive."

He chuckled, grasping his ribs as pain shot through his chest. "Stick with what works, is that it?"

"Something like that." Her expression was serious. "I thought after everything you'd gone and died on me."

"Before I hear why you sent me a letter about someone you'd never mentioned before? Not a chance."

Her hand crept onto the mattress near his head as if wanting to touch him but not daring. "Now?"

"I know I said my place, but this is as close as it gets right now." His smile was faint. "I'll probably be here for a day or two for observation before they'll let me go."

"And what, you just hop right back on your bike?"

"Of course." His grin turned teasing. "So where's _my_ teddy bear?"

Her laughter was soft. She bent down, rummaging in something on the floor and then produced a very familiar white bear that looked a little worse for wear but well cared for. The red bow around his neck was slightly tattered, but it was expected since the bear appeared to see a lot of travel. Kimberly put the bear up to his head and grinned, shaking it a little. "Binky says you need to be more careful; hospitals aren't a fun place."

"_Binky _knows this does he?"

Kimberly nodded sagely. "He came into my life in a hospital; I think he knows all about them." She stopped for a moment and then placed the bear on his chest, waiting.

"He's yours, Kim. I can't take him."

"You could borrow him. It's nice to have something to snuggle at night."

"I'm good."

She looked uncomfortable for a minute before carefully lifting the stuffed toy from his chest. Instead of putting it back in the bag, she cuddled it in her lap in a move that looked well practiced.

"I can't believe you still have that thing."

"Really?" She cocked her head at him. "I have most of the presents you gave me. The ones Rita and Zed didn't destroy anyway."

"Why'd you keep 'em?"

"Why'd you? I saw the cowboy hat in your trailer."

"Since when were you in my trailer?"

She blushed. "Your crew chief took me there to calm me down. Coach isn't too impressed with me right now."

"Oh?"

"I jumped the rail and the safety fence when you crashed and did some damage to my hands." She held up one hand, unwilling to reveal her role in pulling him from the flames. "Your crew chief got a kick and a punch before I realized where I was and what I was doing."

"You _hit_ Wally?" He laughed and groaned, clutching his ribs as he curled into the pain. "Wally's gotta have loved that."

"I apologized." She looked away, toying with the ribbon around the bear's neck. "You were smothered in the flames of the wreck, Tommy. I thought..." she paused. "Your suit saved your life you know."

Flames? He vaguely remembered flames and that would explain the tenderness to his body. Time spent inside a flaming crash – it wouldn't have been the first time.

Kim continued. "The whole thing was caught on film and people started to speculate on why I was so worried about you. So when I came to see you I used it to my advantage. I had to see for myself that you were okay."

Tommy could relate. He could easily remember their reversed positions. The sight of Kimberly lying stretched out in a hospital bed, looking vulnerable, had scared the bejesus out of him. He'd never wanted to see her in that position again. "I'm alright; promise."

"Good." She fiddled with one of the bear's arms. "I guess I should explain, huh?"

He nodded. He'd been waiting a long time for this discussion and while he hadn't pictured it being confined to a hospital bed with Kimberly posing as his fiancée, it would do.

She took a deep breath, straightening her shoulder as if unconsciously preparing for a fight. "Where did you want me to start?"

"Wherever."

She cocked her head as if to say he was no help at all, and then began. "I guess I'll start with when I met Sean."

"He's mister wonderful, kind and caring?"

She flinched, as she had in his tent, but nodded. "He was at first. We started hanging out - he reminded me of you. At first, anyway. We just hit it off, and when he asked me out I knew I couldn't because of you."

"So you decided you belonged with him."

Her nod was miserable. "It was a mistake, Tommy. Sean was great initially, but as Gymnastics began to become more demanding, he wanted more of my time. He made me choose, saying he didn't want half a girlfriend." She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the argument that had ended the relationship. "We fought, and I... I told him no one who really loved me would make me choose between them and my dream." Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears when she opened them to look at him again. "He told me if that was the case, he'd take comfort in the fact that I'd had that and not trusted in it. That's I'd lost you the way he'd lost me."

His chest ached - and not from his broken ribs. "Kim... why did you write me that letter?"

"I had to." She dashed the tears from her eyes with one hand. "I didn't know when I would be coming back. I knew that if I had met Sean, there was a possibility of you meeting someone else. Keeping you tied to me wasn't fair."

"It was my choice."

"You put your life on hold for me, Tommy." She smiled, her lips trembling. "You gave up, were willing to give up, so much to ensure I had my dream. I couldn't take that from you; it wasn't fair. Not after everything you've done for me."

He reached for her, pushing himself up on the mattress with one arm and hissed through his teeth as his side protested. Kimberly moved, the bear dropping to the ground as she placed both hands on his shoulders and pressed him back to the mattress.

His arm slid around her waist and she was dawn down, bending over the edge as she stared into his eyes. He searched them, looking for something specific; the Kimberly he'd known and the woman who still held his heart.

"You're an idiot, Kimberly."

She jerked away, her expression hurt.

Tommy draw her back down but had the pliability of a board. "If you'd asked to be set free, I'd have let you go. Instead you sent me a letter that turned my world upside down and sent me into a tail spin. I can't tell you how much it hurt; not just getting that letter, but having the guys read it to me."

Her eyes widened. "No!"

He nodded solemnly and let her go. "I tried, Kim. I tried to let you go because it felt like you were running from me; like that's what you needed. I even wrote you a response."

"Did you mail it?"

"It got returned, unopened. I figured at that point you wanted nothing more to do with me. That's when I quit the Rangers and joining the racing circuit."

"Oh, Tommy!"

He shrugged, feeling the knot in his stomach shrinking with the look in her eyes. "I did what I had to. I couldn't stay with the Rangers the way I was; I was more dangerous than helpful and it wasn't fair to them. So I chose my replacement and I walked away. I've been racing ever since."

"And I've been a fool." She glanced at the door and then lifted herself up onto the edge of the bed, looking at him. "I don't have the right to ask, but do you think you could ever forgive me, Tommy?"

His fingers curved around hers. "It doesn't fix the hurt, Kim, but it's a start. I could never stay mad at you in high school and I still can't. What _is _it about you, beautiful?"

She squeezed his fingers, her smile warming him straight to his toes. "I don't know... but you, Tommy Oliver are under my skin and won't leave."

"Then we're even, Kimberly Ann Hart." He lifted her hand and pulled it to his lips. "We're even."

_fin_


End file.
